


This Wizard Is The One (The Which Wizard Remix)

by megyal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bribery, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took a fair amount of plotting on Harry's part to get Malfoy right where he wanted him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Wizard Is The One (The Which Wizard Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Which Wizard Willies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/389956) by [Queenie_Mab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_Mab/pseuds/Queenie_Mab). 



> Written for hd_remix. The original is linked up there! Some of Harry and Draco's dialogue is quoted directly from the original story. All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> My awesome beta: [thisgirl_is](http://thisgirl-is.livejournal.com/). She'd said something about amending penis phrases and I thought it was the most hilarious thing ever.
> 
> There are some aspects which came off as dub-con to me, so if you'd like me to tell you what they might be before you read, I will do so! You can message/email me.

_August 3, 1998_

_Wandspurt,_  
6-9/13 Sensation Alley  
(Off Charing Cross Road, Greater London) 

_Hendry Jameson  
C/o All Packer Private Owl Forwarding Service _

_Dear Mr. Jameson_

_**Thank you for your interest in the Quildo!** _

_As requested, here is the pricelist for the Quildo model, inclusive of the enhanced charm (Proteus modified with Kāmadeva). We hope that these are acceptable to you, and will begin crafting immediately upon receipt of the following:_  
 _• Fifty per cent of agreed price (please see Galleon to Euro conversion, if applicable)_  
 _• Trace samples of your magic (to be placed in sample packet provided)_  
 _• Mould to be used in creation of your Quildo (please see instructions in kit provided)_  
 _We hope to allay your concerns regarding the use of your magic. The trace sample will not be sufficient for usage in any curse or potion; it will be used only in the activation, if any, of the Kāmadeva modification. Your sample will not be sold for information or utilized in any identification process, and will not be stored for longer than one year and one day. If you'd like your sample to be kept in our records for longer than that time, please send an owl to Ms. Cassandra Ephemera, in our Customer Care office._

_We will forward further information regarding the additional charm with your completed Quildo model. If our services are not required, please re-Shrink the packages and return (and kindly tick the SERVICES CANCELLED box in the Customer Reply card)._

_Sincerely,_

_Marjorie Knockpatrick_

_\--_

_August 24, 1998_

_Wandspurt,_  
6-9/13 Sensation Alley  
(Off Charing Cross Road, Greater London) 

_Hendry Jameson  
C/o All Packer Private Owl Forwarding Service _

_Dear Mr. Jameson_

_We are extremely pleased to present you with your Quildo (W2-300TM)! We hope that it brings you great pleasure, and dare we hope, lasting love!_

_The standard Proteus Charm will help keep your Quildo from spying eyes by transforming it into a seemingly innocuous quill when not held in your hand. Because this model is promoted in the Which Wizard magazine, the Proteus charm is also keyed to the touch of an individual of the same gender. Additionally, if you would like to 'pause' the Proteus Charm, simply state, in a firm and clear voice, 'Proteus Concesso' while the Quildo is in the form which you would like it to maintain. (To re-activate the Proteus Charm, the phrase is 'Proteus Cieo')._

_We have added the Kāmadeva modification to the Proteus Charm, as per your order. The Kāmadeva modification will trigger Concesso-Cieo in an exceptional manner: if the Quildo is held by someone who desires or admires you in some way (detected through their magical signature), then the Quildo will change form! If not, the Quildo will not transform. We think it's a very clever modification, and we hope that its use will assist you in any of your romantic endeavours._

_(Please be aware that the magical signature of this person will also be transmitted to our offices and stored in the event that your Quildo changes for them. Again, we will not use the trace amounts of their magic in any form, nor will we sell it.)_

_Thank you for your business, and contact us if you have any further questions or problems. Remember, 'YOUR PLEASURE IS **OUR** PLEASURE!'_

_Sincerely,_

_Marjorie Knockpatrick_  


\--

It took a fair amount of plotting on Harry's part to get Malfoy right where he wanted him. 

He didn't spend much time over _why_ it had to be Malfoy, why _now_ after all that fighting and death and the long trials; but he had come to terms with a lot of thoughts about himself and had made some pretty firm resolutions. Malfoy, for all his apparent nastiness and bloody-minded separatist views, was a part of those personal decisions, for ill or good.

Hopefully good.

It wasn't hard to notice how much time Malfoy spent staring at him, though. Hogwarts, good old building that she was, seemed quieter and smaller now. Hidden corners and sad shadows, memories seeping out of the old mortar; Hogwarts was changed, and everyone in it. There were certain rooms that Harry couldn't bear to be in; the Great Hall made him feel as if he was walking on a very narrow ledge. He'd killed another human being in there; dead bodies had once lain near the Hufflepuff table. No wonder he was relieved by Malfoy's weighty regard. Distracting it was, enough to allow Harry to forget the disbelief in Voldemort's face when the spell had hit him and the sound his body made when it hit the stony floor.

Malfoy was in his general vicinity more often than not, gazing at Harry with those pale eyes. Ron and Hermione were annoyed and angry in turns, but when Malfoy gazed at Harry, he again felt as if he was walking on some strange ledge; but if he fell off this one, at least he would fly for a moment.

Harry loved flying, in any case.

All it took, really, was the right place at the right time.

\--

Malfoy tripped him as he was on his way to Astronomy, which was kind of disappointingly predictable, as far as Harry was concerned, and also a bit cute, in a rather malicious way. Harry had been expecting it to happen because Malfoy had had a very particular expression on his face for the last few days, the one that said he was plotting something, and that something involved a tripping hex and Harry's legs. Harry had taken to carrying his Quildo with him, stuffed into the purple satchel Luna had given him a few months ago. Now was the right time, and Harry took it quickly. He whispered a quick spell even as he tumbled. The bottom of his bag tore open and everything scattered to the floor of the corridor. 

Harry rolled over, going onto his elbows and glaring up at Malfoy, who had been lurking behind a statue of a very tall man with a morose expression. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noted with satisfaction that the Quildo had ended up at the base of that same statue, feathery top brushing stone feet. 

Malfoy smirked at him. 

"Potty," he said and Harry rolled his eyes. "You all right there?"

"Why'd you do that?" Harry huffed and picked himself up, frowning as he fixed his bag. "And here I thought you'd left off shit like that."

"Just having some fun with my friends." One of Malfoy's eyebrows twitched in a meaningful fashion. "You know, since we're all friends here."

Harry blinked at him, keeping his own expression in a state of bemusement. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, "and I'm late for class."

"You testified for my mother and I," Malfoy said and Harry felt his lips part in surprise. Not _entirely_ what he was expecting, then. He felt warm under Malfoy's direct focus. 

"I'd probably be in Azkaban if not for you," Malfoy continued in a low, hard voice and Harry shook himself.

"And you thank me with a tripping hex," Harry said, sighing. "Look, this has been _really_ pleasant and everything, but I'm late."

He walked away quickly, not looking back even though he felt Malfoy's stare boring into the space between his shoulder-blades. Harry sped past a few doors, and then hurriedly tugged his folded cloak out of a deep pocket of his robes. Placing his satchel against the wall, he left it to creep back, watching with his breath held as Malfoy spotted the quill and bent for it.

As soon as Malfoy touched it, the Kāmadeva charm activated, and the Quildo happily changed shape. Harry tried not to breathe too hard, but this all meant _so much_ and Malfoy's grin was devious and delighted.

It was a good look on him, Harry decided; it always was.

\--

When Malfoy hurried into breakfast the next morning, Harry wanted to grin at the adorable berk. His hair, usually combed neatly, was sticking up in wild tufts that seemed as if someone had spent the night running their fingers through his hair. Harry would have been severely jealous at the thought, except he'd peeked on his map a few times during the night, and Malfoy had been in his bed alone. Harry imagined Malfoy playing with the dildo form of the quill: running his tongue along the length of it, pushing it inside himself, moaning as it breached his body. Harry exhaled heavily, and tried to compose himself. Hermione and Ron gave him quizzical glances and Harry tried to look as innocent as humanly possible. From Hermione's snort and the way Ron rolled his eyes, he'd failed at that task.

Malfoy sat down at the Slytherin table, right in Harry's direct line of view. Zabini said something to him, leaning forward and smirking at Malfoy, who hurriedly put his hair in a neater state. He even spelled a mirror to hover in front of him as he did so; Harry shook his head in amusement, averting his gaze as Malfoy glanced in his direction.

After a few minutes, the owls began to deliver the post, flying in at high speed and dropping the letters, magazines and newspapers with well-trained accuracy. One fluttered right in front of Harry, a folded piece of parchment settling right in front of his tall cup of juice.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, squinting at it. 

"It could be an actual letter, maybe?" Harry asked, turning to widen his eyes at her. She wrinkled her nose at him.

"Nothing dangerous?" she said and narrowed her eyes at the letter. "Check for any hexes, or curses."

"It's fine," Harry said, because from the way Malfoy was staring a hole in his head, this could only have come from him. Harry pulled the folded flap, struggling a little with the Sticking Charm that kept it sealed. He opened it to encounter a rather interesting missive from Malfoy.

_Potter,  
I found something that belongs to you and would like to return it. It has been a joy to borrow, but I can't, in good conscience, keep it._

_Meet me in classroom nine after lessons if you don't want me to give an exclusive to the Daily Prophet. We will discuss terms then._

_Ever yours,  
Draco Malfoy_

Blackmail, then. Sounded just about right, Harry surmised and contrived to make his expression stiff with shock, even though he felt as if his insides were filled with exclamation marks at the line _it's been a joy to borrow_. Malfoy had used it, pushed a dildo shaped like Harry's dick inside himself. That was…just ridiculously arousing, to say the very least. Harry looked up from the letter, right into Malfoy's face and felt breathless at the way Malfoy was staring at him, leaning forward as if he could force the affirmative past Harry's lips with simply the demand in his eyes.

Harry dropped his gaze and Incendio'd the letter, broadcasting acquiescence in the line of his shoulders and the tilt of his eyebrows. 

"Wasn't cursed?" Hermione asked, staring down at the pile of ash beside Harry's plate. "Sure about that?"

"Positive," Harry said, leaning towards her and Ron. "It's fine, don't worry."

"We've just come through a war, mate." The corner of Ron's mouth was quirked up. "Worrying's part of our job description when it comes to you, these days. Built right in, sorry to say."

"Just…" Harry stopped and then exhaled slowly. "Just trust me. It's nothing. Okay?"

Hermione nodded, but her expression was doubtful. Ron looked between the two of them and then shrugged.

"Alright," was all he said, and all Harry had to do now was survive a whole day of classes. 

\---

Ron hadn't been too pleased when Harry asked him to run the Quidditch practice that night; he'd wanted to spend some time with Hermione, was right grumpy about the whole thing.

"I'll make it up to you," Harry said, trotting backwards from where Ron stood on the Quidditch pitch, the large gear-trunk open at his feet. "I promise."

"You'd better," Ron said, practically pouting as he knelt to pick up the Quaffle from its nestling spot in the trunk. The evening sunlight warmed his hair even more. "Where are you off to, anyway?"

"Um. Meeting." Harry stopped walking for a moment, adjusting the strap of his satchel. "Night meeting, y'know."

"Night meeting." Ron sounded very thoughtful as he looked up at Harry. "Oh. That sort of meeting, is it?"

Harry wondered if he'd have to explain this strange Malfoy thing, and his tidy plan that was well under way, but Ron shook his head as he poked at the grumbly Bludgers.

"Well," he said, "be careful."

Harry thought of Malfoy's singularly penetrating expression and how Hermione and Ron would feel when they found out. Hermione, he could predict from time to time, but Ron was a bit harder. His poker-face was legendary, really.

"I'll try not to put myself in mortal danger," Harry promised and Ron huffed, amused. "And if I am, I'll call for you and Hermione."

"That is all we really ask, dear," Ron said, laying on a sugary, half-sarcastic tone that made him sound a lot like his mother. Harry grinned and then raced off, barely hearing the twittering of the Snitch as Ron tickled it.

He burst into Classroom Nine, a room at the end of a lonely corridor. It was fairly small, so that was probably the reason it was unused these days; it would probably be turned into some sort of storage soon. For now, though, there were still a few pieces of furniture scattered about, a teacher's desk pushed to one side. Malfoy, dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black trousers underneath open robes, was leaning against that desk, one hand stuck in his bag. He pulled that hand out hurriedly as soon as he saw Harry, and his eyes were wide for a moment, before he narrowed them in what seemed to be a fairly speculative fashion.

"You're late," he said, and underneath the smugness in his voice, Harry thought he could pick up a bit of surprise as well.

Harry said, "I had to ask Ron to take over Quidditch practice today. Where's my quill?"

Malfoy's hand, the one he'd had pushed in his bag, twitched. The Quildo was inside his bag, then. He might have been fondling it before Harry had arrived. The thought of that curled warmly in the base of Harry's stomach. 

Malfoy smirked at him. "I'm sure my note mentioned some terms."

Terms, certainly, but ones that weren't particularly worrying to Harry. The important people in his life were already aware that he was attracted to both females and males. His current greatest concern was simply Ron and Hermione's reaction to this thing with Malfoy, if it ever got to a Thing stage; they wouldn't throw him out of their lives over a Thing like that, even if they were understandably upset.

However, Malfoy didn't have to know all that now, did he? So Harry let his satchel slip from his shoulder and stood there looking as defeated as he could manage.

"What does it take to keep your mouth shut?" Harry asked. Malfoy pulled his wand out of his sleeve and Harry went rigid for a moment, preparing to wandlessly throw up a shield charm. Thankfully, Malfoy simply locked the door behind Harry, tucked his wand back into his sleeve and then pulled at the top button of his trousers, actually waggling his eyebrows.

Harry swallowed hard, and felt his eyes widen. His mouth dropped open in genuine surprise, even though he'd been anticipating something like this. He'd had a dream like this before. Actually, they'd been naked together in a bed, with a few candles placed to properly illuminate Malfoy's pale skin, and really soft sheets. Malfoy had been _Draco_ , and he'd been called _Harry_ , and there'd been mutual pleasuring. _At the same time._ In the morning Harry had been pleased and pissed off at the same time, because everything had felt wonderful in the dream, but it was just a dream: he'd had to wake up. It was just…he'd never sucked cock before. A real one, that was; when he'd gotten the Quildo, he'd easily succumbed to the temptation of putting it in his mouth, and had moved on to his arse soon after. He'd had his own cock sucked before: Ginny had given him a thank-Merlin-you're-alive one, and they'd gone down on each other for a bit of a this-isn't-working-out-good-luck-to-you session; and Seamus had given him a hey-here's-for-sexual-reconfigurations one (poor Ron had walked in on that one).

So…this couldn't be so bad. He knew what he liked, so he could just apply that to Malfoy. He felt his own prick thicken in his pants, and he swallowed again.

"You can't be serious," he said, because Malfoy expected him to. Malfoy smiled like the Kneazle that swallowed the Snidget.

"More serious than the Wizengamot," Malfoy said in a low voice, still smiling. "You either get down on your knees and suck me off, or there'll be a nice exclusive winging on its way to the Prophet."

Harry bit his bottom lip to prevent the _all right_ from slipping out too easily. It was a little sad that Malfoy thought this was really the only way to get into his pants. He didn't even try to chat Harry up or smile at him, a real smile that went all the way to his eyes; tell him good morning, or how nice his hair looked today. Harry was an easy sell. He really liked things like that.

Then again, if Malfoy did things like that, Harry would probably be weirded out or turned off. He was an easy sell, but he was also quite contrary at times.

Harry walked over to Malfoy and sank to his knees in front of Malfoy, ending up face-to-crotch. He could feel the warmth of Malfoy's body, he was so close.

Malfoy carded the fingers of one hand through Harry's hair, a tentative touch at odds with the way he said, "There's a good Gryffindor." Harry stared up at him, wanting to lean into the curve of Malfoy's long fingers. "Well? Get on with it."

Harry took a deep breath and pulled at the fastenings of Malfoy's trousers. Unsure if he should just tug his prick out through the opening, he decided to pull them down, pulling them over Malfoy's prick and leaving them at around his knees.

Malfoy was erect, and he was bigger than Harry had expected. Harry could smell his soap, and his sweat, the fleshy scent of his prick. Tentatively, he leaned forward and licked it, starting near the base and running all the way to underneath the head. Malfoy shivered, and the hand that was in Harry's hair clenched, pulling at the roots.

Breathing hard, he stared down at Harry, who was blinking up at him in surprise, arousal shivering through his bones.

"Suck me," Malfoy sneered, but it was a weak attempt at cruelty on his face. He couldn't be cruel. He could be petty and unkind, mean and very small-minded, but Harry knew him. Malfoy could try his best at being the worst, but he wasn't built for it. Harry ached to show him how much he knew him.

"Those were the terms, weren't they?" Malfoy said, his grip loosening in Harry's hair. 

Harry dropped his gaze to Malfoy's cock and then took the head of it in his mouth. He tested the weight of it on his tongue, tasting Malfoy on every single taste-bud he had: sweet, bitter, and everything in between. He ran his tongue all about, took a deep breath and sank down as far as he could go.

He tried not to gag, and barely managed, surprising himself when he found his nostrils tickled by coarse, pale curls. Malfoy shuddered again and seemed to stagger backwards, even though there was nowhere else to go. He released Harry's hair to grip the edge of the desk with both hands, gazing down at Harry his eyes so wide that the white showed all around the iris. His pupils were blown wide, leaving only the vaguest hint of grey.

Harry's glasses slid down his nose, but he didn't dare bother to adjust them. He concentrated on bobbing his head, and not gagging, and inhaling as much of Malfoy's scent as he could. Malfoy was up there mumbling, one hand now clenching on Harry's shoulder, grip tightening and loosening in time with Harry's movements. Malfoy grunted and jerked, nearly choking Harry; his cock hardened even more between Harry's lips.

Harry's own prick was hot and thick in his pants, and he pushed his hand down the waistband of his trousers, and wrapped his fingers around his own cock. Malfoy came with barely a warning, rushing thick and warm. Harry swallowed, his throat sore, and then let Malfoy's limp prick slide out from his mouth. He pulled back, trying to catch his breath and trying not to grimace at the stickiness between his legs. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, getting up as he did so, and glancing at Malfoy.

For a moment, Malfoy looked as if someone had struck him with a small Lightning Hex before his expression closed up into its default smirk. Silently, he pulled up his clothes and put himself together; he didn't ask if Harry was all right, if Harry came too.

He held out one hand and said, "My quill." His voice sounded wrecked to his own ears, and Malfoy licked his lips. Slowly, Malfoy reached into his satchel and pulled out the Quildo, which was smugly holding the shape of Harry's penis. Harry reached out for it, but Malfoy held it back and up, using the few inches of height he had over Harry to keep it away.

"Ah, I'm thinking that I need to keep this close for a while longer," Malfoy said, and grinned. "Unless…"

Harry looked at him. "Unless _what_?"

"Unless you meet me again at midnight. Astronomy Tower."

_Why there_ , Harry wanted to ask, but he simply schooled his features into a scowl. "What will we do up there?"

"I'll figure something out," Malfoy said, and then tilted his head in a manner that used to infuriate Harry. "But you don't have to if you don't want to. Really. I'll just blast your private life all over the media, no worries."

"Fine," Harry said. " _Fine_. I'll meet you later on, just give me… give me that thing you have there. _My_ thing."

"You'll get _your_ thing when I see you on the Tower." Malfoy's smile was disarmingly wide. Harry thought about sucking him off again… or maybe Malfoy would return the favour. There was a thought.

Harry fetched his satchel and headed for the door, stopping when he felt the sensuous layer of Malfoy's wards, pressing against his skin in the same way he'd stroked Harry's hair at first. He paused, not asking out loud for Malfoy to cancel them. He didn't have to wait for long, for they dissipated in a moment and Harry opened the door and escaped through it.

Tonight, at the Tower. He found he could hardly wait.

\--

Harry took a long time in the bathroom that evening, so much so that Ron knocked on the door and asked if he'd drowned in there or what. He tried combing his hair into some kind of order, but it still insisted on sticking up in all the wrong places. He stared in the mirror at himself; did his mouth look different, now that he'd had the weighty length of another bloke's prick resting on his tongue? It seemed so, even though no-one had given him a second glance when he'd gone back to the Quidditch field and taken over from Ron for about fifteen minutes of training. Hadn't any of them noticed how odd his voice had been, all low and scratchy? Apparently not. Harry had thought that the fact that he'd sucked off Draco Malfoy would have been emblazoned on his face. 

Now, he dressed in the nicest pyjama bottoms he owned, a pair made of black silk that he'd bought a few weeks ago on a whim. He got a bit of ribbing when he went to bed, dressed all fancy-like, Seamus said, but he simply wrinkled his nose at them and pulled his curtains, snuggling into bed. Despite the little ball of anticipation lodged in the pit of his stomach, he actually managed to fall asleep. The Tempus charm he set vibrated him awake at a few minutes before midnight, and he snuck his silky cloak from underneath his pillow. Carefully, he crept out and downstairs past a few dozing upper years in the Common Room. It was an easy matter to open the door, the Fat Lady was napping herself, and he closed it as quietly as he could manage. 

When he made it up to the Tower, he peeked out the archway, shivering a bit. The coolness of the stone floor seeped through the thin slippers he wore. Malfoy stood near the wall, gazing out into the night. Harry wondered if he was thinking about Dumbledore now... if he remembered the Headmaster's words, the resigned and tired expression that had been engraved on the old wizard's face.

Harry exhaled quietly. From this angle, and without a smirk plastered on his lips, Malfoy was handsome. His hair wasn't slicked back, and he was dressed as if he was going out somewhere nice, in dark grey trousers and a loose white shirt, a stylish great coat slung over the lot. Harry bit the inside of his lip and took a few steps back, and then climbed up again, making more noise this time. When he stepped through the archway, Malfoy was looking in his direction this time, an expectant lift to his eyebrows.

The beginnings of a smug grin began to dawn on his face as Harry let the invisibility cloak fall, and then he blinked and went blank. Harry gazed at him, a little confused, but Malfoy stepped closer, looking at Harry's body with that neutral expression. He walked around Harry, apparently inspecting the goods, and Harry was just about to ask him what the hell he was on when Malfoy stopped in front of him and touched the faint circle of ruined skin between Harry's nipples that had been left behind by Slytherin's locket.

"What's this?" he asked and Harry flinched away, surprised at the seductive heat of his fingers and his oblivious audacity. Malfoy had no idea what Harry had gone through to get that particular scar, did he? What with all the struggling with Voldemort's great bloody snake. He'd turn Malfoy's hair proper white if he ever sat him down and gave him a right rendition. Thing was, would Malfoy care? Probably not.

"None of your business," Harry said, voice sharp, even though his nipples had perked up at Malfoy's touch. "Let's get this done. I want to sleep."

Malfoy's lips twisted and he stepped back away from Harry, rummaging at the school bag he'd slung over one broad shoulder. He pulled out Harry's dildo and waved it around a little, like a baton.

"Show me how you use this, then," he said and Harry felt his eyes widen. Up here? Out in the cold and on the hard floor? Malfoy was a crazy shit, but Harry couldn't deny that it seemed rather exciting.

"I'll need lube," Harry said, low and soft and Malfoy looked as if he wanted to laugh in Harry's face. Harry felt the heat of a blush steal across his cheeks.

"I've brought lube," Malfoy said. "Well prepared and all, you'll thank me for it. And I think I want to loosen you up, too."

Harry actually felt faint for a few beats, just at the thought of Malfoy's fingers up his bum. 

"What?" Malfoy eyed him with gleeful suspicion. "No-one's ever fingered you before, is that it?"

"Right," Harry answered… whispered it, really. "No one has."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, as if Harry's lack of sexual experience was something to be ashamed of. He pulled off his coat and tossed it up in the air, throwing a few spells at it as it fluttered towards the ground. The coat transformed into a rather fluffy-looking blanket.

"Kneel down," he said to Harry, imperious as fuck. "Arse up in the air, like a good little Gryff." 

Harry went down as told, his knees sinking into the soft material of the blanket, thankfully backed up by a nice Cushioning charm. He folded his arms and rested his forehead on them, and Malfoy knelt right behind him. Malfoy's hands landed on Harry's bottom, and they felt huge and hot through the silk of Harry's pyjamas. He pulled down them down and Harry felt his breath coming and going in rapid pants; he was concentrating on calming himself, willing his prick to not stiffen _so bloody quickly_ , when Malfoy parted his arse-cheeks and ran a finger all along his crack, rubbing at Harry's hole briefly and venturing along to fondle his bollocks.

Harry bit back a needy whimper, but he couldn't hold back a little cry of surprise when he felt something wet touch at his hole. Malfoy was licking him, licking his arse-hole and apparently liking it, because he did it again.

"What are you _doing_?" Harry gasped, because it was ridiculous and weird and he'd never even dreamed that someone would want to do that to him. Malfoy didn't answer, he just continued to drive Harry crazy with his tongue, slurping and poking and Harry was so hard that he felt he was about to explode.

Malfoy drew back abruptly, and the cool air hitting his saliva on Harry's hole made goosebumps flush across Harry's skin.

"You think you still need lube?" Malfoy asked quite pleasantly, albeit with a trace of roughness in his voice, as if he tongue-fucked blokes on the regular. Harry fought down a wave of possessiveness so strong that he had to work on relaxing his clenched fists against the transfigured coat. The special charm he'd ordered for his Quildo had simply detected some kind of desire in Malfoy for Harry; didn't mean he wanted Harry for the long haul. Besides, Harry probably didn't want that either; this was all just something he had to work out of his system, and he was doing it with all the stubborn determination which exasperated his friends at times.

Right, that was it.

He shifted his head to one side and considered the grey stones of the floor next to the cushioned surface.

"I still need the lube," he mumbled and clenched his eyes shut. Malfoy said something under his breath; Harry couldn't hear him over the roaring in his own ears, and when Malfoy's fingers twisted inside his hole, Harry jumped. It wasn't as painful as he thought it would have been, and when Malfoy stroked something very sensitive inside of him, he actually moaned out loud. He panted as Malfoy's fingers continued to work at him. Harry's mind was a jumble of _yesmore_ and _Draco Malfoy has his fingers up inside me._

Malfoy kept finding that spot inside Harry that sent shivers up and down his body, and Harry's cock was so hard he could barely think when Malfoy leaned over his back and said, "So, would you prefer your dildo or my cock?"

All Harry could whisper was, "Your cock," in a very low voice. _Reluctant_ , he had to seem reluctant, even though his prick was throbbing and his whole body was a-tremble. Malfoy did a most astounding thing: he licked Harry's sweaty earlobe, and traced a wet hot line with his tongue down the slight valley of Harry's spine. Harry moaned again, trying to bite back the sound and failing miserably.

He barely registered the sound of Malfoy undoing his clothing. He was going to have sex with Draco Malfoy. Out on the Astronomy Tower, right there in the open.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked beside him, his tone sharpening. "Have you ever done this before?"

Harry wrinkled his brow. Malfoy wanted to know that _now_? He shook his head, not trusting in his voice, and Malfoy said, "I'll be gentle."

Harry blinked at the soft cloth under his palms. That was… odd, coming from Malfoy, but certainly not unwelcome. He managed to ponder Malfoy's muted tone of voice when he felt the thick head of Malfoy's cock pressed against the loosened ring of his hole.

"I'm coming in," Malfoy said, and began to push inside, slowly. "Fuck. You're so bloody tight. You feel good."

Harry didn’t panic. He'd read up about this, done his research as it were, and so he bore down, opening up his body for Malfoy's hot prick. Nevertheless, there was some pain, because Malfoy was thick and long. Harry gasped, feeling his erection falter.

Malfoy stopped. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice strained. "Am I hurting you?"

He _had_ been, but not deliberately, and when one considered the majority of their interactions, this was actually a very good deal. The pain was fading away, actually.

"No," Harry said and arched a little more, testing the sensation of Malfoy's length, half-inside him. “More," he whispered. "Go on, deeper." Malfoy pulled back, the head of his cock almost popping out of Harry's hole, and then buried himself again. Harry felt as if he couldn’t breathe, and Malfoy pressed his head against Harry's back, his breath falling in hot waves on Harry's skin. Malfoy went in and out once more, and Harry went up on his hands, pushing back on him, taking every inch of it. It felt… it was starting to feel really good, especially when Malfoy's cock managed to bump into that nice spot now and again. Harry moved with him, arching and writhing until he felt his orgasm tower, then teeter and then tumble through him as he cried out Malfoy's first name: "Draco!" Malfoy came soon after, his warm come spurting inside Harry.

That had been ridiculously quick, Harry told himself hazily, his arms locked at the elbows and trembling. Malfoy's forehead was resting against his spine again, just for a few moments. Then he pulled back, pulling his softened cock out of Harry.

Harry could feel the slickness of lube and Malfoy's come inside himself. He wondered if Malfoy would tongue his arse again, but Malfoy cast some kind of cleansing charm, removing all traces of himself from Harry's body. 

Malfoy was idly stroking his skin, and apparently admiring Harry's well-fucked hole, parting Harry's cheeks and kneading his bottom. Harry shifted, realising that he could feel the hard stone floor abusing his knees.

"Get off," he said. "The Cushioning Charm's run out."

Malfoy sat back without retort, and Harry pawed around for his pyjama bottoms, wriggling into them. He hesitated, and then settled beside Malfoy.

Malfoy definitely took note of the wince that escaped Harry's lips, because he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Harry said, and glanced at the side of Malfoy's face. "Well… kind of burning and good, I guess."

"Burning and good." Malfoy laughed. "I suppose when you got that scar on your chest, you said it was _burning good_ , too."

Harry stared at him. He was an idiot, but he really wanted Malfoy. He wanted him very much. He wanted to kiss Malfoy, and snuggle with him somewhere, and argue with him, and make up, and Harry was _a complete idiot_. That _Kāmadeva_ charm was probably just picking up Malfoy's physical attraction, but he would never know anything _worth_ knowing about Harry, and probably wouldn't care. 

Harry wasn't quite sure why that thought hurt so much.

He scrambled up, and grabbed his cloak. "I have to go," he bit out, and was halfway down the stairs when he realised that he hadn't collected the damned Quildo.

\--

Of course, because he was predictable, Malfoy sent another note at breakfast the next morning, demanding Harry's presence in the Prefects' bathroom at ten that night, _or else_. Harry read it, set it ablaze with tired flicks of his wand and fended off Hermione's suspicious questions about his actions. It was his mail, wasn't it? He could set fire to it if he wanted, and he grumpily finished his breakfast and went about his day.

It was all just sex, which was what he wanted and… not really. He should probably tell Malfoy that he could inform anyone he wished, because the only reason he got his hands on Harry's dildo was because Harry wished it. He rehearsed all of that in his mind, but when he opened the door to the Prefect's bathroom, Malfoy was in the large bath, a mob of bubbles overtaking the surface of the water. Every logical thought flew out of Harry's head; Malfoy's hair was longer now that it was wet, and darker. It made his eyes seem larger and his cheekbones sharper. He actually smiled at Harry, who pulled off his pyjamas slowly, and slipped into the bath as well.

"So," Harry said, staring at Malfoy's curved lips. "What's on the blackmail menu tonight?"

"Your lap, my arse," Malfoy said, and his smile was very cold. "If I hear you've told anyone about this… well. All you'd have to do is have a look at the papers the next day."

"Yeah?" Harry tilted up his chin. "You'll have to tell them that we've been shagging, if they'd ever take you seriously."

Malfoy lifted one shoulder. "Your entire image is at stake, Potter. That's a lot to lose, right there."

_I really don't care about the damned image_ , Harry wanted to say, but he gave Malfoy a hard glare and then said, "Let's get on with this, then."

"Of course." Malfoy's voice was very self-satisfied, and very smooth. "But I'll have to get ready first, and you'll watch."

"What?" Harry asked, mouth suddenly dry, but Malfoy ignored him, reaching over and plucking the green quill from where it had lain nestled in folds of fluffy towels. It popped out of that feathery shape and into the form of Harry's prick. Harry distantly acknowledged that it was a very fine charm, a real professional job, but the rest of his mind was focused in the way Malfoy turned on a tap nearby and got some oil out of it, smearing it all over the green prick. 

Malfoy gave him a long look, and then clambered onto a bench that was built into the side of the pool. Water streamed off his body, all pale, long limbs, and Harry stared as Malfoy carefully inserted the dildo into his hole, sliding it in and out.

Malfoy whispered a spell, and the dildo moved on its own. Harry had never loved magic more than in that moment, and he slid closer, watching as his dildo fucked Malfoy, listening to Malfoy's soft noises. He could even hear a faint squelching as the dildo screwed Malfoy, and he couldn't stop himself from ending the spell with a shaky _Finite_. His real cock was so hard as he held onto his fake one, pulling it slowly out of Malfoy's body. He stared at it for a moment; this had been in Malfoy's body.

Malfoy slipped back into the water and Harry sat in his place, one hand wrapped around the base of his own cock. 

"Sit on this," he said, voice rough with want. That's really all he could do, _want_ , and he breathed in deeply as Malfoy actually climbed into his lap and sat down very slowly on Harry's cock. Harry closed his eyes, pressing his head against Malfoy's collarbone. It was lovely, Malfoy's tight heat clenching all around him, and he could do with this all the time, he really could. Maybe Malfoy could just… not speak, ever, and they'd probably get along just fine.

Malfoy rode him slowly, a moan forming in the back of his throat every time Harry's cock slid up inside him. When Harry pulled back a little and looked up, he saw Malfoy's mouth there, so close. He had to kiss him, and so he did. Malfoy actually froze for a few rapid thumps of Harry's heart, before kissing back with a kind of fervency that took Harry by surprise. Malfoy kissed like he cared, like he didn't spend half the time goading Harry or trying to blackmail him, and it was easy to relax into a nice fantasy: they were lovers, they were having sex because that's what lovers did, and not for any reason involving blackmail.

Harry pulled away from the kiss; he could hardly hear himself speak over the thumping of blood in his ears. "I'm… close," he murmured. Malfoy nodded, and grasped his own cock, giving it long pulls and gasping against Harry's mouth. Harry ran his hands over Malfoy's hips and his bum, and thrust up into Malfoy, hard and trembling, and came.

Malfoy came almost as immediately, and the way his body tightened around Harry's cock was almost enough to make Harry's brain white-out again. They remained so close together for a few moments more, Malfoy comfortably heavy in Harry's arms. When he licked at Harry's neck, Harry laughed tiredly.

Malfoy kissed him again, and again. Harry felt his softened prick slip out of Malfoy's hole, but Malfoy just kept kissing him and Harry held him close and just enjoyed the warmth of his body, and the roughness of his stubble and his mouth, gentle and demanding at turns. He felt satisfaction settle inside his chest, and he felt too good to give himself a reality check.

"Your mouth's gone all red," Malfoy said when they finally managed to break. He put one hand on Harry's cheek, thumb brushing his lips. 

"Yours too," Harry said, and smiled a little against Malfoy's touch. "Maybe we ought to go. It's nearly curfew for us, anyway."

Malfoy nodded and slid away from Harry into the now-cool water. They climbed out of the bath, and dried off with the towels, then dressed quickly. Harry reached out for the Quildo, but Malfoy took it before him, twirling it with a smile that was more conspiratorial than anything else, and then shoved it in the book-bag he had brought.

"Next time," he promised, smiling around his words. "I'll send you another note, right?"

"Wait, no," Harry said, thinking about Hermione's narrow stare that morning. "Don't do that, just… just tell me. Hermione's been asking me why I've been burning my post."

Malfoy looked at him, that small smile still on his lips. It faded before he said, "Room of Requirement, then." When Harry's lips parted in surprise, Malfoy's smile returned to his face, but dressed more like a cynical grin. "I've tested it. It's fine, it still works. Eight o'clock. Don't be late."

"Right," Harry said. The Astronomy Tower, the Room of Requirement; it was almost as if Malfoy was fucking away his bad memories, or something. It seemed like a Malfoy thing to do.

"Right," Malfoy echoed. He turned on his heel and left Harry, who Vanished the water from the large bath, just to give himself time to think. Nothing concrete formed in his mind, though; he simply lingered on the feel of Malfoy's tongue against his, and how Malfoy touched his hair in a way that Harry didn't know he'd like so very much.

\--

Harry was in a pretty bad mood when he arrived at the Room of Requirement, stomping past it three times. Hermione had gotten his ire up, and he was fair vexed with her, as well as at himself for yelling at her in the Common Room earlier. She had _reported_ his habit of burning his mail to McGonagall. He supposed he shouldn't have told her that they were hate-mail, and he should have really known that Hermione would have taken that tack. 

He sighed as he reached out for the handle of the door that appeared. He'd have a talk with her later; probably tell her the truth about who he was with. She now knew he was seeing someone, after he'd snapped at her when she told him that McGonagall had tightened his curfew for his own safety. Right now, he just wanted to be with Malfoy. He tightened his grip on the round handle at that thought. He wanted to be with Malfoy. Not only was he criminally stupid, he was now quite on the way to madness, wasn't he?

When he turned the handle and stepped inside, he gazed around in pleased wonder. Whatever Malfoy had needed from the Room, it had given in spades. There was quite a lot of white, spread silken on the bed and fluffy piles of it cascading down the walls. The bed was large, but not ridiculously massive. Malfoy stood in the middle of the room, just looking about with his hands stuck in his pockets. Harry let out an admiring whistle at the state of the room.

"Very nice," he said. "Let's get the extortion train a-rolling, shall we?"

Malfoy turned and strode towards him, seizing upon Harry and kissing him with a curious sort of desperation. Harry could relate, because he clawed at Malfoy's shirt and scrabbled desperately, letting out a sound of annoyance at the amount of buttons he encountered. He found himself being pushed back towards the bed by Malfoy, and he tore at the shirt under his hands, eager to get to Malfoy's skin.

"This was a favourite shirt of mine, Potter, how dare you," Malfoy said, but there was an edge of a smile to his words. Harry just smiled up at him, pressing the aching bulge of his cock against Malfoy's. It all seemed to unwind so fast in that bed; Harry wanted Malfoy to fuck him, because he had a feeling that tonight would be the last night of blackmail. It felt that way; there was something else to the way Malfoy was touching him, a bit harder, a bit more reckless. Even when they managed to get naked and Malfoy went down on him for the first time, it felt a bit _final_. That was alright by Harry. Really, it was.

"Draco," he called out softly, and Malfoy looked up from between Harry's legs, where he had been blowing Harry's mind to very small pieces with his lips and tongue. Harry tried out the name again. "Draco, I… I want to do that. To you, too, I mean. At the same time, that is."

Malfoy stared at him, grey eyes wide. In a flurry of movement, he was over Harry, his cock and bollocks right in Harry's face, his mouth back on Harry's prick.¬ Harry went at Malfoy's erection as if his life depended on it, savouring the heady taste of Malfoy in his mouth. Malfoy came in short order, to Harry's surprise.

Even more surprising, Malfoy said, "Fuck me," with a trace of his normal arrogance, but Harry scrambled to obey. There had been a couple of small glass bottles on a nicely made side-table, and Harry just grabbed up the nearest one as they tumbled about the bed, kissing and even laughing quietly when their limbs tangled together. Kneeling between Malfoy's spread legs, Harry poured some lube over his fingers and then reached down, petting around Malfoy's greedy little hole and then pushing in one finger.

Malfoy twisted and moaned.

"Is that alright?" Harry whispered. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," Malfoy said, and closed his eyes briefly. He opened them again and pinned Harry with a skewering grey gaze. "I love when you do a lot of things with me. To me… _oh_ , fuck, yes," he cut off when Harry managed to find a particularly interesting spot inside him. Harry's cheeks felt hot, and he wanted to blurt out the most ridiculous things, like--

"I love doing things with you too. I wish I could do more… I wish we could _be_ more." Harry tried to close his mouth over those treacherous little words, but he couldn't seem to stop talking. "I think that we could be wonderful together."

"Could we?" Malfoy was mocking, surely, except there was a kind of hopefulness to his features that made him seem irresistible. "I like the sound of that." He reached down and encircled his fingers around Harry's wrist. Harry had gotten a couple more fingers into him, and Malfoy pulled them out, his gaze still locked on Harry's. "I like the sound of you fucking me even better, Potter. Get on with it."

"Berk," Harry said, very fondly and shuffled up, pushing up Malfoy's legs to his chest and then lining up his cock to Malfoy's hole, glistening invitingly with lube.

"Prick," Malfoy retorted and opened up so very beautifully for Harry. Harry pressed his hips forwards and back, arms braced on either side of Malfoy's head. 

Malfoy murmured, "So good, Harry, you feel good all the time," and Harry responded in kind; at least he thought he did. It was very hard to think clearly with Malfoy's hands roaming all over his back, and Malfoy's long legs wrapped around his waist, the both of them moving in the sort of rhythm granted to the young and athletic.

" _Love_ ," Malfoy moaned as he came. Harry choked out Malfoy's name, " _Draco_ ", and came so hard he saw pretty silver sparkles in the air as he gazed down at Malfoy's content expression. He slumped against Malfoy, head on his chest; he could hear Malfoy's heart racing, then slowing gradually.

He had almost dozed off, Malfoy's come still sticky between them, when Malfoy began to squirm.

"Potter."

"Hmph," Harry answered and tried to snuggle back to sleep.

"Potter, wake up. I think you picked up the bloody Veritaserum to use as lube, you idiot."

Harry's eyelids flew open and he scrambled up and back.

"Why would there even be Veritaserum here?" he asked, absolutely incredulous. Malfoy contrived to look shifty and defensive at the same time.

"If you had only _read the label_ , that wouldn't have happened." There were hectic points of red high up on Malfoy's cheeks. "The Room probably put it there. But you didn't have to reach for it, did you?"

"Was in the heat of the moment, _sorry_ ," Harry said, running one hand through his hair. "Right, absolutely my fault for assuming that those bottles there were all lube." He froze and then stared at Draco. "Wait, that means all you said--"

A window appeared in the nearest wall, and slid open silently. A nondescript owl flew in, and dropped a rolled-up bit of parchment into Malfoy's naked lap. Malfoy winced, and carefully removed it from his bits as the owl hooted and soared outside.

Harry stared at the seal on the parchment. That was the Wandspurt seal, he'd know it anywhere.

"Let me see that," he said and plucked it out of Malfoy's grip with the easy speed of a Seeker. Fending off Malfoy's admittedly half-hearted grabs, Harry tore it open and stared at the familiar address, then read the rest of the letter.

_**Thank you for your interest in the Quildo!** _

_As requested, here is the pricelist for the Quildo model, with the built-in Proteus charm! We hope that these are acceptable to you, and will begin crafting immediately upon receipt of the following:_  


  
_• Fifty per cent of agreed price (please see Galleon to Euro conversion, if applicable)_   
_• Trace samples of your magic (to be placed in sample packet provided)_   
_• Mould to be used in creation of your Quildo (please see instructions in kit provided)_   


_Please note that our records indicate that we already have trace samples of your magic in storage! You may have touched another man's Quildo with a specialized charm, which picked up on your desire for that individual! Exciting! We wish you the very best in any relationship that has formed. We look forward to hearing from you!_   


"They already have trace samples of my magic," Malfoy said quite flatly as he gazed over Harry's shoulder. "I suppose you have something to tell me."

"My quill," Harry said, folding up the letter and pushing Malfoy out of the way to sit back against the headboard. "That's how they have it. I set it to only change for you because you… desired me, in some way." Harry shrugged, not looking up into Malfoy's face, afraid of the sneer he'd find there, or maybe a mocking sort of pity. "Maybe just on the shagging level, I guess. Doesn't matter now." He smiled towards the surface of the bed. "You're ordering your own Quildo, that should be fun for you."

"Quit your pity party for a moment," Malfoy said, sitting right beside Harry, "and ask me a question."

Harry frowned a little. "What?"

"The Veritaserum. It's stronger when applied topically." Malfoy smiled a little when Harry finally looked up in his face, daring to hope. "Go on, berk. Ask me."

"Do you… I mean, can we--"

"Yes," Malfoy said, and kissed him.

_fin_


End file.
